


In front of the books?

by sansaswildlinglover



Series: Greyjoy is an angel [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cunnilingus, F/M, Geek Kink, Semi-Public Sex, also teacher kink I guess, and there's another g for glasses as well I suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-29 08:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16740928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansaswildlinglover/pseuds/sansaswildlinglover
Summary: After about half an hour of staring at him while listening to his husky voice, that somehow sounded gruff and like a soft caress at the same time, she gave up on trying to make notes and took her phone to find out whether he had a Facebook.He did, but he only had three pictures on it. One was of a big white dog with the caption 'Ghost', his profile pic was of him embracing a pretty woman in her forties, who must be his mother, and the third was a picture of him alone. He had the most luscious, kissable mouth she'd ever seen on a man and his grey eyes were framed by dark-rimmed glasses.She licked her lips. How did those glasses manage to make her smile and feel slightly horny at the same time?





	In front of the books?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queenofthebees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/gifts), [rxqueenruby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxqueenruby/gifts), [ValofWinterfell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValofWinterfell/gifts), [FrancesChee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrancesChee/gifts).



> For all of you who asked for a continuation of this story :)
> 
> And for Debbie, thank you for setting up the Kink Collaboration. It has been great fun and I'm looking forward to all the other stories still to come!
> 
>  
> 
> G for geek kink!

Sansa looked at her screen and squealed, jumping to her feet and doing a little twirl around the living room.

Margaery walked in, hands on her hips and her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

"I have a match!" she told her with a grin.

Marge offered her a smirk. "So?" It was her who'd convinced a reluctant Sansa to make a Tinder profile in the first place, and she'd rightly pointed out she'd have no trouble attracting attention.

"It's  _him_! Jon Snow!"

Marged arched an eyebrow.

"The hot TA with the curls and the abs!"  _The one with the cute glasses!_

"The one whose face was made to be sat on?" Marge suggested.

Sansa's face flushed as she vaguely recalled telling her friend that on a night out during one of her first weeks at Queen's Gate University.

 _An Introduction to the History of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros_ had definitely not been one of Sansa's favourite classes. It was one of those subjects which was taught in a large auditorium, filled with hundreds of eighteen-year-olds, and Sansa had felt uncomfortable sitting among them, not knowing anyone there and being four years their senior.

She had attended King's Landing University when she'd been their age, until a series of bad relationships and a family tragedy had forced her to take a break, and now she'd decided to continue her higher education closer to home. 

Aside from the awkwardness she felt, the course's subject wasn't particularly appealing to Sansa either. She was sure professor Mormont was a decent and upstanding member of the history department, but his long lectures on battles and peace treaties were never able to compel her.

During the fourth week of term however, professor Mormont had caught the flu and one of his teaching assistants was set to take over that week's class. Most of the TAs Sansa had seen so far all had the same haircut and wore the same dreadful combination of striped button down shirts and khakis. 

But the man who introduced himself as Jon Snow, showed up to the lecture wearing black skinny jeans and a  _Lord of the Rings_ T-shirt. By the end of the lecture she'd promised herself to ask her brother Bran, who was a huge fan of the trilogy, to tell her more about it. 

Doctor Snow was the dark and handsome type, appropriately broody, but not particularly tall. His dark curls were pulled back into a man bun, a look Sansa had never been into before, but  _damn it_ if it didn't look perfect on Jon Snow.

After about half an hour of staring at him while listening to his husky voice, that somehow sounded gruff and like a soft caress at the same time, she gave up on trying to make notes and took her phone to find out whether he had a  _Facebook._

He did, but he only had three pictures on it. One was of a big white dog with the caption 'Ghost', his profile pic was of him embracing a pretty woman in her forties, who must be his mother, and the third was a picture of him alone. He had the most luscious, kissable mouth she'd ever seen on a man and his grey eyes were framed by dark-rimmed glasses.

She licked her lips. How did those glasses manage to make her smile and feel slightly horny at the same time?

Sansa knew she was a horrible person when she received an email alerting her that professor Mormont would be out for three more weeks and doctor Snow would be covering his first year history class. 

She made sure to start dressing nicely and pay more attention to her make-up, even if that meant getting up half an hour earlier, _even_ if the chances of him noticing her in the crowd were slim. She spent the three-hour lectures enraptured by his face and his voice, and the passionate way he talked about every subject he tackled. 

She'd saved his profile pic to a secret folder on her phone, and spent too many hours wasting time as she daydreamed while staring at it. Once, she'd agreed to go to the gym with her friend Mya, and Jon Snow had been there, lifting weights in nothing but a pair of shorts. It had taken all of her willpower to stop picturing running her tongue over his chiseled chest and abs, and she had to turn around as the image of her rubbing herself against one of his powerful thighs invaded her mind.

This man was a disaster. He had already ruined a dozen pairs of her panties, and they hadn’t even had a single conversation!

She'd considered visiting him during office hours with some questions about the class and and exams to have an excuse to spend some time with him and get to know him a little better, but sadly Sansa realized she was a coward when it came to talking to men. She'd made it all the way to his door once, but she'd fled around the corner and into the elevator when doctor Tarly had emerged from the office next to his.

Now that the first semester was over, and she no longer had any classes organized by the history department, she'd had trouble coming up with excuses to run into him, until she'd found his Tinder profile. She told herself there was no harm in swiping right, since he was no longer her teacher.

Her giddiness over their match gave her the courage to send him a message, and all she could do after that was wait.

***

The morning after their first date, Sansa had been mortified remembering how drunk she had been — and  _seven hells_ the things she had said!

She was rather surprised when Jon had called back for a second date. She was sure she'd scared him off, but although he'd teased her about it, he didn't seem to be discouraged by her drunk antics.

They'd been dating for about three months now, and though they both had busy schedules, having to spend most of their time in the same university building had its perks. 

They'd retreated to a quiet corner of the library, so they could have a little privacy while also being able to work on an essay and an article respectively, but Sansa was having a hard time focussing on the use of animal metaphors in late Targaryen period poetry.

She was too easily distracted by the frown of concentration on Jon's face, by the way his finger kept pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and most of all by his teeth worrying his plump bottom lip.

She shut her laptop and pushed herself to her feet. When he glanced up, she told him she needed a bathroom break.

She hurried to the restroom and locked herself into one of the stalls, quickly skimmying out of her panties and stuffing them into the sleeve of her blouse. She unlocked the door and tried to stop herself from bouncing or giggling as she returned to their table. 

She tossed her panties onto the keyboard of his laptop and watched as his mouth fell open, biting her lip. She pushed his laptop aside and braced her hands behind her to hop onto the table, opening her legs for him.

Jon was still staring at her, his eyes dark and his ears slightly red. He closed and opened his mouth again, but no words were coming out. 

She reached behind his head to untie his hair, ruffling his curls so they fell loose around his face. She hummed in approval. 

He trailed his eyes up her body, from her legs dangling off the edge of the table, to her open thighs, her heaving chest and all the way up to her parted lips and darkened eyes.

“Here?” he gulped. “In front of the books?”

She only offered him a playful wink.

"What if someone— 

"They won't."

"You'll have to be quiet," he warned her, his voice reduced to a rough whisper, but with a hint of amusement to it as well. 

"I'll do my best," she promised, folding her skirt back.

He pushed his chair back and knelt in front of the table, licking his lips as he held her gaze. 

He hooked his hands under her knees and pulled her closer to the edge, spreading her legs further apart, arching an eyebrow before he dove in.

He licked a stripe up her slit, hauling her legs over his shoulders, and curled his hands around her hips. Sansa's eyes fluttered closed at the sensation of his warm tongue against her sensitive flesh and his firm hands holding her.

She opened them again, propping herself up on her elbows so she could watch him. They'd have to be quick about this, but that wouldn't be a problem. Seeing his face between her thighs when he was wearing his glasses always pushed her so incredibly close to the edge.

He lapped at her as if he'd been craving this, and Sansa knew he probably had. Jon had told her that his Tinder profile had been a joke his roommate Theon had pulled on him, but it hadn't been a lie. She'd never met a man who was so passionate about giving head before.

Jon loved it. He treated it like an art, like a ritual, like an act of worship, as if her body was both his altar and the deity he was praying to. He loved drawing it out, teasing her and bringing her to the edge over and over again, but now there wasn't any time for that.

Sansa carded her hands through his curls as his mouth settled on her clit. He sucked it between his full lips and prodded it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs.

She had to clench her teeth to stop a deep moan from making its way up her throat and she slumped back onto the table, her eyes falling shut again.

He sucked and circled her nub, stroking her with his tongue until her fingers tightened in his hair, and then he started licking her in a steady zigzag motion.

She was biting her lip so hard she was sure she was going to break the skin.

Her body was being pulled taut, pleasure building in her core as Jon pushed her further and further, and then she dropped over the edge. Her climax rippled through her in an explosion that started at her centre and left her body boneless, rainbows dancing behind her closed eyelids.

When she licked her lips, she could taste the metallic tang of blood. She pushed herself up just in time to see Jon wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before he offered her a grin.

He pushed himself to his feet to sit down in his chair again, pulling her into his lap and holding her as she nuzzled her face into his neck. They sat like that for a while, until she reluctantly started to disentangle herself from his embrace.

"I have to go to work now," she groaned with a pout, bracing her hands on his shoulders to climb out of his lap. "I wish I could stay with you."

"I'll be in my office working on this article all night anyway," he shrugged.

She hummed in acknowledgement. "Perhaps I should pay you a late night visit then."

"Sansa," he warned her.

They'd argued about this before. Jon didn't think it was a good idea for her to visit him there outside of office hours. Once he'd made her hide under his desk when professor Mormont knocked on his door late at night. He had ended up regretting that decision.

She sighed. "You will literally be the only person still there, Jon."

She collected her things and leaned in to press a light kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry," she whispered. "The only thing you should be concerned about, is whether your desk is sturdy enough."

 


End file.
